My Diary
by Natasha Hyatt
Summary: JDCox, as always. Light slash, kind of short, spoilers for the season one ep My Hero. What if Dr. Cox had found JD's diary?


"So, Diary, today was my first day at theater camp. And already I've made a bunch of friends! There's this one kid especially, Dylan, who is really, really nice. He's kind of shy, but I figure that I can get him to open up to me."

Dr. Cox heard another voice chime in with "Biblically speaking!", followed by loud, juvenile guffaws. Rounding the corridor, he saw the source of the laughter - the Janitor was perched on a counter near the nurse's station, flocked by a gaggle of maintenance workers and reading aloud from a nondescript black notebook. Dr. Cox cleared his throat.

"I've heard of Friday Night Lights, but Friday Night Book Clubs? Just not as catchy, guys."

The Janitor snapped the notebook shut and gestured regally to his maintenance workers. "Maintenance crew, disperse." The other workers slowly left, grumbling and giving Dr. Cox dirty looks. Then the Janitor hopped down from where he had been sitting on the counter, tapping the notebook against his free hand.

"Whaddya got there, jumpsuit?" Dr. Cox nodded his head towards the black book.

"Oh, this?" The Janitor looked down and shrugged. "Nothing, just someone's diary."

"Whose?"

The Janitor grinned. "Oh, you'd love to know whose." Dr. Cox lunged for the notebook, but the Janitor held it high above his head.

"Not fair," Dr. Cox growled, crossing his arms and glaring at the smiling Janitor.

"I'll make you a little deal," the Janitor said, notebook still over his head. "In exchange for this notebook, I want your car."

"No."

"Fine. Then I want your soul."

"What?" Dr. Cox took a generous step back.

"I'm just kidding." The Janitor chortled for the briefest of seconds. "I think. No, really? I want your stethoscope."

"For what?" Dr. Cox asked, removing the item from its place around his neck and handing it over.

The Janitor's face darkened as he gave Dr. Cox the notebook. "No reason," he said offhandedly. He swiftly turned and disappeared down a deserted hallway.

Dr. Cox shook his head slowly as he watched the Janitor skulk off before turning to the notebook he held in his hands. It was undecorated, and actually navy-blue under the light. He idly opened the cover and looked to where the name might be written.

_John Michael Dorian_ was written neatly in the space for a name. Dr. Cox's eyes widened.

_Newbie keeps a diary?_ he wondered, before his brain was assaulted by conflicting thoughts. One part of him wanted to eagerly devour the contents of the diary, and another didn't want to infringe on the darkest of JD's thoughts (although how dark could his diary _really_ be?). He leaned against the wall, holding the diary out in front of him like some ancient, sacred tome and staring at it as though it was supposed to tell him the answer.

_Maybe I'll just read the entry the Janitor was reading,_ he decided. _Something about theater camp._ He flipped fast through the worn pages until his eyes spotted the matching words. The entry itself was short, cut off by JD apologizing that his brother was calling for him. And yet, Dr. Cox still wanted to find out more.

_No,_ he said. But his finger was already turning the page and oh, he was on the next entry, would you look at that! His eyes scanned the page, reading more of JD's exciting adventures at theater camp. Some kid named Dylan hung around him like a moth to a light, and JD, ignorant twit, didn't get the message at _all_. But reading about JD learning how to control his voice pitch and dance to choreography was still pretty fun. And innocent. Not the reading of private secrets, but this JD of the past, an innocent little kid more concerned with practicing lines than saving lives. And he was still like that. Dr. Cox had seen many a bright-eyed, naïve person walk into Sacred Heart as a sweet intern and leave through the same doors a changed and bitter cynic, yet JD still had the same cheerful outlook now as he had had when he was a seventh grader at theater camp, still so sickeningly positive that it would make anyone hurl.

Dr. Cox gently turned the pages, continuing until he arrived on the last written page. JD still had quite a lot of diary left to fill up, he noted as his eyes began to read the last entry.

"I realized that sometimes being able to admit we're not heroic is when we're the most heroic of all. I guess he'll always be a hero to me."

_What a _girl. He snorted. _Who'd he write that about, anyway?_ Dr. Cox looked at the adjacent page. He saw his name randomly dotting it, linking him to the final sentence. He felt cold.

_He... wrote that about me?_ Now wasn't that a twist. His eyes zipped back and forth as he read JD's latest entry - a summary of his day; Dr. Cox could practically hear the morally-righteous voiceover tying his day together. He noted with special interest the sentences with his name, but JD was slightly guarded in his diary, refusing to reveal anything too incriminating. 

Dr. Cox's heart sank as he spotted Ben's name in the entry. He had managed to push Ben from his thoughts for a while, distracted by the discovery of the diary, and irony had reared its ugly head. Worse, though; the JD he was reading about was the same optimist he had spoken to earlier, the same optimist who let Dylan greet him at theater camp with long-lasting, full-body hugs and thought nothing of it. He closed the diary quickly, too ashamed to read further, and began to walk to JD's locker to return it.

It was only when he was actually at JD's locker did he realize that he couldn't get through the lock. He didn't have a bobby pin, or a skeleton key. The locker was locked shut.

In a minute, that didn't matter. "Dr. Cox? What are you doing here?"

Dr. Cox spun around frantically, heart thumping rapidly as he hid the diary behind his back. JD stood there with a curious look on his face, backpack slung over his shoulders. "Newbie! Oh, I um, didn't-"

JD held up a finger to shush him. "Whatcha got behind your back?" he asked interestedly.

"Oh, um-"

In a second, JD had darted over and pulled his diary from Dr. Cox. His expression transformed from delighted surprise at seeing Dr. Cox after hours to disbelief and shock at the private object he had held.

"I was just going to return it, Newbie," Dr. Cox began placatingly. JD took a step back, his lips stretched into a taut, disapproving line.

"What did you read?" he accused.

"Jumping to conclusions too soon, Marissa," Dr. Cox snarled, crossing his arms. JD said nothing, his eyes sparkling with held-back fury as he glared at his mentor.

Dr. Cox held up his hands in defeat. "Fine, your experiences at theater camp. And that was _all._" JD decided not to pursue the argument, instead turning to open his locker. Dr. Cox leaned against the wall. "You know that Dylan kid was gay for you, right?"

JD's locker clicked open. "I know," he said evenly.

"So why didn't you say anything?"

JD straightened up after putting his diary in a secure place in the back of his locker. "It didn't matter," he said. "Besides, why would I want to make him feel bad?"

"So he would stop feeling you up, Newbie, this isn't rocket science." Dr. Cox pushed himself from the wall and faced JD. An awkward silence rang in their ears.

"I need to get going, Dr. Cox," JD said quietly. "See you around." He turned to leave, shoulders slightly slumped.

"Wait." JD stopped but didn't turn around. "You really think I'm a hero?"

At that, JD spun slowly around. "You read the last entry, too?" he asked, his voice carefully devoid of too much emotion.

Dr. Cox nodded. "And that was really all I read," he admitted truthfully, hoping JD would believe him. He sat on one of the small, rickety benches, motioning for JD to sit down as well.

JD obeyed, and they sat in silence for a moment. He was the first to break the silence. "Wanna know why I didn't tell Dylan off? he asked.

"Sure."

JD smiled, caught in a nostalgic reverie. "Because I really didn't mind. I kind of liked him." Dr. Cox said nothing, and JD laughed once, a short bark. "I didn't write anything down about how I felt about him because I thought I was crazy, or that someone would read it and think I was crazy. I didn't mind him. He was a really nice guy."

Dr. Cox waited a beat. "I knew those appletinis meant something," he muttered, and JD snorted in laughter.

"Not always," JD said, leaning back precariously on the bench. "Who gave you my diary, anyway?"

"The Janitor."

"That explains a lot." At Dr. Cox's puzzled look, JD clarified. "He's been following me around, telling me private things he couldn't know otherwise. I was wondering how he did it."

"Yeah, well, unless you want him to learn more about you at theater camp, I'd suggest you move that diary someplace safe."

JD shrugged. "Probably should." He made no move to transfer his diary to his backpack, however, instead turning to look at Dr. Cox. "Was that really all you read? The ones about theater camp and the last one?"

"Yes, Deidre, how many times am I going to have to tell you?"

JD grinned. "Until I'm positive you haven't read anything else." Dr. Cox groaned, and they were quiet again, the silence more companionable than awkward.

"You never answered my question, you know," Dr. Cox said idly.

"What question?"

Dr. Cox faced JD. "You really think I'm your hero?" he asked, careful not to let too many emotions spill into the sentence.

JD shifted in his seat, letting his backpack drop to the floor as he rolled his shoulders. "I guess..."

"Newbie, 'I guess' isn't good enough."

"Yes," JD answered quickly. He avoided Dr. Cox's gaze as he continued. "You just... you always know what to do, and when you don't, you either pretend like you do and reassure everyone or you own up to your mistakes or whatever and you're... just heroic like that." His face flushed red with embarrassment.

Dr. Cox sat there, momentarily stupefied. "I... thank you," he mumbled lamely.

"You're welcome." JD was aware of how little space was between them; his left leg was resting against Dr. Cox's right, creating warmth. "I should probably-"

JD's unfinished sentence was abruptly cut off by Dr. Cox pressing his mouth to JD's. JD flinched backward, stopping himself as he realized that Dr. Cox was kissing him. So he twisted his body around as they aligned their lips in a better position, and JD realized that this was what it was like to actually be _kissed_, instead of kiss_ing_; it was a rather pleasant experience, not being the more active party. Dr. Cox's kisses were slightly fast, and JD linked his arms around Dr. Cox's neck as he changed the pace to a slower speed, running his tongue over Dr. Cox's upper lip.

Dr. Cox pulled away. "Moving a little fast, Kathy," he said, grinning. JD noted with repressed delight that Dr. Cox made no move to remove JD's arms from around him.

JD smiled cockily. "Is that how you thank everyone when they give you a compliment?" He was rewarded for his cheek with a slap on the arm and laughed. "Or did you just go to theater camp too?"

Rolling his eyes and groaning exaggeratedly, Dr. Cox stood. He cracked his back and sighed in relief. "Neither, Newbie," he replied, as JD slipped his arms through the straps of his backpack and rose to his feet.

"So, um," JD said, stumbling for the right words. For once, Dr. Cox chose to humor him, putting his hands firmly on JD's hips and pulling him in. JD leaned in for another kiss...

... as Dr. Cox whistled loudly. "What do you think you're doing?" he questioned, grinning as JD rubbed his ears.

"Can you _not_ do that?"

Dr. Cox's grin was mischievous. "Couldn't resist, and you deserved it." His smile softened and he moved closer, kissing JD for real this time, pressing lightly. JD's eyes fluttered close as he tilted his head right, thoroughly enjoying the closeness of the moment just as much as he enjoyed the feel of Dr. Cox's lips on his.

They broke apart, and Dr. Cox released his hold on JD's skinny hips. "See you tomorrow, Newbie," he said, turning and sauntering out of the locker room. JD moved a hand up to his mouth, a finger running lightly over his lips as he watched his hero go.

He smiled giddily and went to retrieve his diary. He had something else to add.


End file.
